


Building a House

by ClarkeStetler, Goosenik



Series: A Blended Home [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles Xavier is a Sweetheart, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Lehnsherr Loves Charles Xavier, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gay Parents, Kid Pietro Maximoff, Kid Wanda Maximoff, M/M, Marvel Cameos, Protective Erik, Protective Parents, Shorts, X-Men Cameos, dadneto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29705445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarkeStetler/pseuds/ClarkeStetler, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goosenik/pseuds/Goosenik
Summary: Fluff and shorts in the 'Playing House' universe. Just quickie scenes to brighten your day with some cute-af mutant dads raising their kids!
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Wanda Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: A Blended Home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183025
Comments: 19
Kudos: 77





	Building a House

**Author's Note:**

> Because the world is hard and sometimes we all need a bit of fluff to make it easier. Not sure what the posting schedule will look like for this, but we'll get you little scenes and shorts relatively regularly if we can!

“How did this happen, Charles?” Erik asked in amused exasperation, turning his head to look at his- what? It was always so odd to try to find a label for Charles. ‘Partner’ technically fit, but it also sounded like business, like something that could be easily severed. What he had with Charles was not temporary or casual, so he wasn’t ever sure what term to utilize. 

Charles was staring down at Mr. Beans, a hand over his mouth. “I…” he trailed off, bewilderment lapping against Erik’s mind like waves.

“Did you not get her fixed?” The vet tech asked politely, clearly fighting the urge to smile. Charles stared at her.

“I got her from a shelter! Don’t they come fixed?”

“Judging by her age on your paperwork, she was likely too young to fix when you adopted her.” She cleared her throat and Charles stared at her, aghast.

“You’re _sure?_ She only made it out of the house for _one night_ , it seems terribly unlikely that…” he stared back down at Mr. Beans, who was stretched out and purring on the countertop, her obviously-swollen belly providing the answer.

“Hussy,” Erik informed her, and she yawned widely, unbothered by the accusation. “Okay,” he continued, pulling on the game Moira had taught him for when he wasn’t sure what to think about something. “Positives. We don’t have to tell the kids she has cancer or is dying. She’s not sick.” He eyed her. “I can’t think of any more. How many kittens? Can you tell that?”

The tech smiled and leaned forward, starting to palpate Beans’ stomach. Charles dropped his forehead to Erik’s shoulder. “ _Kittens,”_ he mumbled, the bewilderment against Erik’s mind shifting. _One cat is already a nightmare half the time,_ he rationalized silently, _But…_ images of kittens, tiny soft creatures letting out tiny mewls. A sense of warmth and tentative acceptance replaced the chagrin and bewilderment.

Charles, Erik realized as he followed the flickers of thoughts and images that his telepath was processing, had never been allowed to have pets. Charles wasn’t sure what to expect for kittens, but he hesitantly admitted that kittens were cute.

Okay, well… there was another positive, then. Charles could have that experience, and the children could, too. They’d like that. Tiny cats, stumbling around their house, getting into things. He stifled a laugh into Charles’ hair, projecting a warm acceptance to his partner.

Charles and Erik had come to an agreement of sorts about Charles’ telepathy. Since Charles knew everything that went through Erik’s head, he had begun projecting his own thoughts and feelings whenever he felt Erik thinking about them. He was doing the best he could to make the situation mutual, and the result was fascinating. It was odd having someone else’s thoughts and feelings in his head, but it was nice, too. If Erik was upset or concerned or happy, Charles knew, and vice versa. Since Erik was terrible at communication at the best of times, this gave him a jumping-off point to start conversations, and it had helped them understand when there was a problem and had smoothed over many a misunderstanding.

Charles also had sat down with Erik and worked with him on his shields, teaching him how to hide thoughts, feelings, and memories within the shields. Charles had admitted that the shields didn’t actually _stop_ him if he wanted to see what was there, but it was a stop sign and would help Charles know that Erik wanted privacy on those matters. He didn’t use it often, but he had shielded some of the worse things he’d done under Shaw, some of the pain and horror.

“Maybe the kids would enjoy kittens,” Charles vocalized finally, his mind still spinning over the concept. Erik nodded.

“I think there are three,” the vet tech informed them.

“Three?” Erik relaxed. He’d seen cats with their kittens back home in Germany and here, alley cats mostly, and some had had huge litters, eight or ten. “Okay. Three we can deal with. When’s she due? How long do cats even stay pregnant?” 

“Anywhere from fifty days to eighty, depending on the cat, the amount of kittens, the age, so on and so forth.”

“So she’s four weeks in now,” Charles mused. “So another four weeks or so?”

“Probably,” the tech agreed. “Don’t be surprised if she has some morning sickness.”

“ _Morning sickness?”_ Erik tried not to laugh. Cats had _morning sickness?!_ Good god. 

The tech laughed. “I’m assuming you’ve never had a cat give birth before?”

“No,” Charles agreed, amused. “I would say not.”

“Okay. We’ll print off some literature on what you can expect for Mrs. Beans.” She smiled, crossing to the computer in the corner of the room.

“Mr.,” Charles corrected reflexively, and she frowned at the computer, but didn’t turn around.

“Our five year olds named her,” Erik offered as an explanation, bopping Mr. Beans’ nose. “You’re terrible,” he informed her. “ _One night_ and you get pregnant. The kids are going to be insane when they find out. Our daughter holds her around her middle,” Erik said, the image hitting him suddenly of Wanda carrying Mr. Beans downstairs, the car flopped over her arms. “Will that hurt the kittens?”

“She will have to be careful with how she carries her,” the woman agreed, and Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. “But she may be more affectionate as the pregnancy hormones kick in.”

“Oh, good,” Charles noted dryly, starting to laugh as he leaned into Erik’s side.

Erik grinned a little. Charles’ laugh was so gorgeous. “Alright,” he said, trying to maintain his own composure as Mr. Beans continued purring. “So pregnant-cat classes for the kids when they get home.”

* * *

The kids, predictably, lost it.

“We’re getting kittens!” Wanda screamed, and five or six books went flying off the bookshelf in a flash of red light. Pietro, still cast-bound, hopped in a little circle gleefully, spinning on the casted leg. Erik picked him up quickly, laughing. This wearing-a-cast thing wasn’t going so great- half the time, Pietro just spun in a circle and he was bound to break something again if he wasn’t careful.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, buddy. Okay, but listen. We have to be really careful with her, okay?” Erik patted Mr. Beans’ head as she stretched out in Charles’ lap. “She’s pregnant. We can’t drop her or carry her around her middle or the kittens could be hurt. And we don’t want to do that, right?”

“But I can help her get around!” Wanda enthused, rushing over to scoop Mr. Beans up.

“Gentle, sunflower.” Charles caught her hands and showed her how to hold the cat. “You don’t want to press on her belly, you want to offer her as much support as you can.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, picking her up more carefully and carrying her over to Pietro. “Look,” she told him importantly.

Pietro grinned and petted the cat happily. “We’re going to have _kittens,”_ he told Wanda. “Kittens! We just thought she was getting fat.” He giggled, then stared at his sister as something occurred to him. “We have to get cat names! They have to have names! Mommies always name their babies when they’re in their bellies.”

Wanda stared down at Mr. Beans, clearly awed by the concept and responsibility upon them, and Charles began laughing. “We are not naming them after silverware,” he informed her, leaning back onto the couch and covering his face with a hand. _Erik, our daughter wants to name one of the kittens Spoon._ Spoon, _Erik._

“Absolutely not,” Erik agreed, laughing and settling next to Charles on the couch. “Not silverware. That’s terrible. Maybe foods. You could name one _Käsespätzle.”_ He grinned as the kids stared. They always found his true German accent fascinating and strange in turns, since he had purposely lost most of it as a teenager and so they’d never really heard him use it. He couldn’t, however, keep from sounding as German as he was when he spoke his native tongue. “Or _Schnitzel.”_

“Shit-zel,” Wanda sounded out, eyes wide as she looked up at him. Charles’ laughter turned to coughing. “Shitzel!” she proclaimed, looking down at Mr. Beans. “And Kayzpatty,” she added, further butchering his recommendations.

Erik shook his head as Pietro echoed his sister. “No, no _schätzchen._ You say it sh-nit-zol.” He tried to bite back his laugh. “Please don’t say it the other way, your teachers will call us and I don’t have time to explain that right now. In German, you say it like that; sh-nit-zol and kay-shh-spet-sluh. Say it with me?” They practiced with him until it didn’t sound like profanity, and he allowed them to bounce upstairs.

“Charles,” Erik said critically, watching them go, “How much other German do you think they butcher at school and turn into profanity?” _Schatz_ especially, his pet name for all three, could be suspect. At least _liebe_ would be difficult to sound like anything else.

“Well,” Charles said mildly, turning his smile into Erik’s shoulder. “I mean. It could happen.”

Erik smiled, running his hand through Charles’ hair and let out a sigh, curling the smaller man slightly into his side. _I am very fond of you,_ he informed him, resting his cheek on the top of Charles’ head. “Even if you didn’t get the cat fixed.”

“I thought they came pre-fixed,” he protested, resting his head on Erik’s shoulder. “Why would they give out cats that aren’t fixed?”

Erik laughed, shaking his head. “I have no idea. I rather thought they were adoptable only after they’d been fixed as well. That’s all right. It will be good for them to have kittens. I always liked it when the alley cats had babies.”

“You’ve been around kittens before?” Charles raised his head in surprise and studied Erik’s face, smiling slowly. “You _liked_ them. Erik Lensherr, scourge of humanity, played with alley kittens.”

“I did not, either,” Erik protested, looking away. “I ignored them fully. I had no interest.” But he let Charles see that he and his mother had built small boxes to keep them warm and the toilet paper rolls he’d cut up to make toys for them. “They were cute, mostly. I mean, they’re kittens, of course they’re cute. I’m still the scourge of humanity. Just not of cats. There is a large difference, Charles.”

“Absolutely,” Charles agreed, grinning, and leaned up to kiss him.

* * *

The next few weeks progressed steadily enough. Pietro continued struggling with his cast, Wanda continued struggling with the concept of naming the new kittens, and Charles and Erik continued struggling with the process of handling a pregnant cat. It was Erik who faced the brunt of it, being that he was still ‘adjusting to a civilian lifestyle,’ as Charles liked to call it, and didn’t yet have a job.

This meant that, no matter what he was doing, the cat was able to find Erik.

He fought the constant fight against the chaos in his and Charles’ bedroom- the cat was there and constantly underfoot.

He worked on the computer in order to figure out videos to help Wanda and Pietro with their schoolwork- the cat was sprawling out across the keyboard.

He washed the dishes- the cat was up on the counter, standing on the hand towel he needed to dry them.

He cooked dinner- the cat wanted to bat at his hands.

She had _never_ been so involved in his life before the pregnancy, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. He’d never had pets really, other than on occasion feeding the cats in the alley behind their house as a child, and he found it irritated him as much as it pleased him.

“She’s just constantly _here,”_ Erik grumbled as she lolled in his lap, reaching for his chess piece. He scooted the chessboard closer to Charles. “Constantly! It’s like having an annoying shadow.” He scratched behind her ears. “She’s never cared about me before, why’d she get so _clingy?”_

“Well, you’re home all the time,” Charles informed him, grinning as he moved his rook forward. “And she knows that you secretly don’t mind it.”

“I most certainly do mind it.” Erik sighed and moved the piece she batted. “Check. And soon we’re going to have three more. Are we keeping them all? Some people give the babies away when their cat or dog gives birth.”

“Do you think the kids will riot if we try to give any of them away?” Charles frowned at the chessboard, dragging his thumb across his lips before moving his king out of check.

“Probably,” Erik admitted. “This is going to be a nightmare for litter boxes.” He stroked a hand through Mr. Beans’ thick fur. “You get to have a night of fun and our food and litter expenditure triples,” he grumbled at her. “This seems unfair.”

“So nice having a house boy to do that for me,” Charles said airily, folding his arms behind his head, and Erik pushed the chessboard aside and moved the cat to the floor, pulling Charles into his lap.

 _A house boy?_ He asked in mock-outrage, and Charles began to laugh, breaking off when Erik kissed him.

* * *

_Erik, is she dying?_ Charles stared at him as the cat yowled. Wanda was in tears, running back and forth as items in the room scraped back and forth with red light. Pietro was spinning in his sad little circle, distressed as he called for her.

“Okay,” Erik said quickly, picking him and Wanda up in each arm and hugging them tightly. “Sit with Papa for me. She’s not dying, she’s having babies. Sometimes that hurts. She’s going to be okay.” He kissed their heads and settled them on the couch with Charles. “She’s warm and safe and we’re here to take care of her, right? That’s why she went under the ottoman, because she feels safe there. I know it’s scary, but it’s okay. She’s okay.” He tried not to grin at the panic in Charles’ mind. It wasn’t really funny, but at the same time, he’d been in the room when Magda had had the twins. _You should have heard their mother. Pietro came out too fast for drugs and she figured she’d done one without, she’d do the other that way too,_ he told Charles as he crouched and dried the twins’ faces as they cuddled into Charles’ sides. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “She’s okay. She’s just having the kittens.”

 _Are there drugs for cats? Do we boil water?_ Amusement in Charles’ mind along with the alarm. _I meant to research what to do, but finals came up._

 _She’s just got to do it,_ Erik assured him. _That’s what my mother always said._ He kissed his children’s heads. “German for kitten is _kätzchen,_ ” he said, hoping to make them smile. Pietro curled his hands into Charles’ shirt, biting his lip and watching the ottoman worriedly.

“ _Kätzchen,”_ Charles repeated, and took to carefully coaching Pietro and Wanda through the pronunciation. They followed along reluctantly, falling utterly silent as small squeaking mewls began. Wanda caught Erik’s hands, mouth falling open, and he grinned.

“Okay,” he said. “We’re going to wait until she calms down, because she’s got a few babies. When she stops making that sound-“ yowls started again. “-we can see the babies. But you’re not going to touch them yet. They’re too little, we have to wait until their eyes open. But you can look at them all you want, okay?”

“But don’t they need cleaned?” Wanda leaned up on her toes, trying unsuccessfully to peer beneath the ottoman.

“Mr. Beans will clean them,” Charles assured her, catching her waist and pulling her close to kiss her temple. “You guys can name them when we see them, okay?”

The children liked _that_ idea, and fell back to quiet, listening as Erik explained how they’d get big and Mr. Beans would feed them and take care of them until they were big enough to take care of themselves.

When everything was quiet other than squeaking, Erik moved to lay next to the ottoman, pulling up the flap to look at Mr. Beans, who was licking three tiny balls of wet fur who were kneading her belly. He grinned. “Hello, little Beans,” he said. “Come here, babies. See?”

Wanda ran forward to crouch beside him and Charles helped Pietro, lowering him carefully. All three of them stared. “They’re so _teeny,”_ Wanda breathed in awe.

“They really are,” Charles agreed, no less impressed or enamored.

Pietro wiggled excitedly. “What’re they doing to Mr. Beans? With the feet!” He pointed.

“She’s giving them milk, remember? They’re getting their food.” Erik kissed his hair. “Now, you have to _promise_ Papa and me that you won’t touch them until we say you can. Mr. Beans is a new mommy and she’s going to be really protective of the babies for a while, and if you’re always in here and trying to touch them, she might get worried and hide them. So we’re going to leave them alone and you’re not going to check on them all the time. Okay?” He grinned at the sad faces. “You can check them a lot,” he assured all three, laughing internally at Charles’ equal enjoyment of the tiny creatures. “Just not all the time. She’s going to be tired. Raising babies is hard work. When their eyes open and they start moving around, Papa and I will help you hold them.”

Pietro nodded. “Promise,” he agreed, wiggling closer to Wanda. “There’s two brown ones and a _black_ one,” he said excitedly. “But they’re all wet, so you can’t see what they look like.”

Wanda stared at them hard. “Boo for the black one,” she decided. “And Peanut for that one.” She pointed at the chubbier brown one.

“That’s not bad at all,” Charles said in mild surprise and no small amount of relief. Erik nodded- they’d been concerned about the names but had both agreed to allow them to name them whatever they wanted. “Pietro, what about the other brown one?”

Pietro stared at the last one, who had a large lighter brown splotch on its back, and thought very hard, then smiled excitedly. “Oh! Magneto?”

Erik didn’t move for a moment, his mind spinning off in horror. How did he even know that name? Where had he heard it? Did he know what kind of person Erik had been for so long? Had his teachers talked, had he overheard a news story, had Magda told him? He opened and shut his mouth, looking at Charles, who had caught his hand behind the kids’ backs.

“What makes you choose that one?” Charles asked gently, stroking his thumb across the back of Erik’s hand.

“It’s a cool name.” Pietro looked between them, frowning a little. “Right?”

“I don’t know if it’s right for a kitten,” Erik said after a moment, finding his voice and squeezing Charles’ hand back. “Maybe something else?”

“Why not?” Wanda stared at them, affronted, and Charles reached out, combing her hair back gently. _They heard it on the news when their mother watched it,_ he murmured to Erik. _They don’t know it’s you._

Erik nodded, leaning into him a little. Of course, Magda would have watched news coverage of Erik’s exploits.

“It’s an awfully big name for such a tiny thing,” Charles told her gently. “We want something little.”

Pietro considered, then brightened. “How about Patch? Cause he’s got a patch.”

“Boo, Patch, and Peanut,” Erik agreed. “Those are good.” He ignored the raised eyebrow Charles shot at him. “Mr. Beans, your children have names.” He smiled at the kids as they cheered and took a deep breath, Charles’ fingers soothing back and forth motions across his skin. They’d need to have a talk about who Erik had been someday, but this wasn’t the time or place. For now, he just wanted to focus on the ridiculous sappy joy on Charles’ face when he looked at the kittens.

So he let the worry about that fade away in the wash of warmth and affection from his partner and his children.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's a scene or moment that you guys want to see, drop it in the comments and we'll do our best to get it out here to you! What do you want? What do you love? What would make your day better?
> 
> Thanks to Bad_k1nd_of_Butterfl13s for the 'Mr. Beans and/or other animals' prompt for this first chapter!


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